


A Day Off

by AlwaysAmused



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil likes Disney movies, M/M, POV Carlos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2014-11-03
Packaged: 2018-02-24 00:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2561714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysAmused/pseuds/AlwaysAmused
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of fluff where Carlos takes a sick day to watch Disney movies with Cecil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Welcome to Night Vale, or Disney. Obviously.

I woke up slowly, first feeling, not yet opening my eyes. I could feel Cecil’s arms wrapped around my middle, his head on my chest. I could feel my hair tickling my forehead and cheek. Then I listened. I could hear Cecil’s slow breathing, the rustle of the covers as he shifted his feet, hooking his leg around mine and snuggling closer to me. I smiled fondly, my eyes still not open. He didn’t snore, but sighed softly in his sleep.

It was then that I opened my eyes and blinked a few times, still clearing my head of the strange dream I’d had. But then again,  _all_  of my dreams had been strange since I moved here, though Cecil assured me that it was completely normal.

I wasn’t so sure. But then, I never was when it came to Night Vale.

I sighed and tilted my head to glance at the clock. It was seven-thirty. I should get up; I had work today. I glanced down at Cecil and smiled again. His eyes were closed and he was smiling slightly in his sleep. I ran my fingers absently through his hair as I stared at the ceiling, contemplating whether I really  _did_ want to get up, or if I should just call in sick. I hadn’t taken a day off in a while; even worked weekends. Cecil didn’t like it much, but he never complains. Or, not at home. He complains about it to his radio station all the time. In fact, the only reason I know it bugs him is because I listen in on his station every evening before I go home.

I finally decided on what I was going to do and glanced back on the clock. Oh. It was almost eight. How had  _that_  happen? I kept forgetting that time didn’t work right in Night Vale.

"Cecil," I sang softly, running the back of my hand over his cheek.

"Hmm?" He mumbled and scooted closer to me. I didn’t even know that was possible.

"It’s time to get up," I said.

"Hmm." He ignored me and sighed.

"Cecil."

"Hmm?"

"I’m going to call in sick today."

That got his attention. His head sprang up and he said "What? Why? Are you sick? Do you need medicine? I could go down to town and get something for you-"

I began to laugh softly and said "Cecil, I’m  _fine_. I’m just calling in sick so I can have the day off for you. It’s your day off too, isn’t it?"

"Really? You  _are_? Fore  _me_?" His violet eyes lit up like a puppy’s and his smile was goofy. I smiled and nodded.

"Yes, but I need to call in so no one worries about me," I said. "And then I’ll make breakfast."

"Mmm,”" Cecil smiled happily, but still a bit sleepy. He rubbed his eyes and sighed again before picking up his glasses off the bedside table and pushing them onto his nose, blinking a little. He ran his fingers through his white-blond hair, which was sticking up at odd places. He picked up the dream diary on his bedside along with the ink and thorn he used as a writing utensil.

I rolled my eyes and said "Cecil, I  _have_  a pencil if you want to borrow it."

"Writing implements are illegal, Carlos," Cecil reminded me, still writing.

"Mm." I got up and went into the bathroom to wash and when I got back, Cecil wasn’t in bed. He was probably in the back yard, doing whatever it was he did with his dream diary and the skeleton of some bird. I often wondered where he got these skeletons, but I’d never asked. I got the feeling that I wouldn’t like the answer.

I’d learned not to ask too many questions in Night Vale.

By the time I’d called in to say I was sick, Cecil had come back inside and was sitting at the table in his dressing gown, reading the newspaper and eating some sort of blue yoghurt with green bits in it. I didn’t even want to know what it was.

"Do you want pancakes this morning?" I asked as I tried to find the recipe my sister had sent me.

"No," Cecil said, peering over the top of the newspaper. "Wheat and wheat by-products are _dangerous_."

"Oh, right," I sighed internally and looked longingly at the pancake mix. "Want eggs instead, then?"

"Yes, please," Cecil said and resumed reading the paper. He wasn’t dressed, but I didn't think we planned on leaving the house anyway. I took out the pan and eggs and whisked them with some milk in a bowl. Cecil was humming behind me and I smiled. He never realized when he was humming. It was endearing.

"Anything interesting in the news?" I asked as I poured the eggs into the pan and began scrambling them. Cecil began to talk about the impossible things of Night Vale, of the Sheriff’s Secret Police and of Old Woman Josie and her angel friends (not that angels existed, of course).

"….and Steve Carlsberg isn’t helping Janice sell her cookies!" Cecil said as I put the bacon on a plate and put it in the microwave.

"Really?" I said, splitting the eggs onto two plates.

"Yeah! What a  _jerk_ ," he muttered to himself and glared at the eggs I set in front of him before frowning. "I don’t have a fork."

"Hold on a minute," I said and took the bacon out of the microwave and took two forks from the drawer. I handed him one and and he fell silent, glaring at his eggs.

"Cecil, stop glaring at your eggs and eat them," I said. He sighed and began to eat. He frowned and began to talk, his mouth full. I listened, but didn’t fully understand what he was talking about. It was kind of like he’d been having a conversation in his head and had just randomly began to speak it aloud.

"You know, I think the world really  _did_  end in 2012," Cecil said, gazing dreamily out the window and trying to spear some eggs with his fork. He wasn’t succeeding, and he brought the egg-less fork to his mouth.

"Oh?" I said, raising my eyebrows, trying not to grin.

"Yes," he said. "And we’re living in a hallucination now. All of last year was just us getting used to the idea, and  _that’s_  why everyone’s been so upset lately."

"Or, it could be because it’s been raining a lot lately," I said. "Seriously, it’s been raining almost nonstop for  _weeks_. Which is odd, because we’re in the desert."

Cecil frowned and peered out of the window. "It’s not raining right now."

"No, but it’s not sunny either," I pointed out. "I can hardly tell what time it is in the morning. Maybe that’s why we’ve all been sleeping."

"Hmm… The weather having an affect on Night Vale’s sleeping patterns… Maybe someone should write a report on that and I should read it tonight…" Cecil frowned again, a little furrow appearing between his eyebrows. I smiled and leaned over the table to kiss him. He grinned and blushed and looked at me shyly.

"What do you want to do today?" I asked as I picked up the empty dishes from the table and went to wash them.

"Whatever you want to do; it’s your day off," Cecil said. I smiled and pushed my hair back from my face. It had grown in again since I’d had it cut. Especially since the barber who’d cut it has since gone insane.

Then again, nearly  _everyone_  was insane here.

Cecil wrapped his arms around my middle and I jumped; I hadn’t heard him approach. But that’s how he was; he moved like a shadow sometimes. He rested his head on my shoulder and said "Why don’t we watch a movie?"

"That’s sound good," I said. "Why don’t you pick one out? It's your day off too."

"Okay!" Cecil bounded out of the kitchen to go pick one out and I cleared his plate and finished washing the dishes.

When I walked into the sitting room, Cecil was trying to pick out a film. We had an old VCR and lots of tapes, most of them Disney. Cecil seems to like Disney. A lot.

"Carlos, which one do you want to watch?" He asked, running a finger over the titles. " _Sleeping Beauty_ ,  _Beauty and the Beast_ ,  _Snow White_ ,  _Lady and the Tramp_ ,  _Pinocchio_ …" He had about a thousand of them. I grinned and said "Which one’s your favourite?"

" _Lilo and Stitch_ ," he said. His favourite changed almost every week. He pulled it out, turned on the VCR, shoved the tape inside, turning the television on, and sat on the sofa. I sat down next to him and put an arm around him. He curled up and rest his head on my shoulder. I was slightly amazed at how such a tall, lanky man could curl up into such a tiny ball. I traced some of the purple tattoos on his arms, not really sure what they were supposed to be. I’d never asked.

He hummed the Disney theme as the film started, the white castle appearing on the blue background. I smiled. It was very endearing to hear Cecil sing. His voice was soothing, and when he was reading, I often asked him to read aloud. He had the strangest books, and the strangest tastes in various things, but he always had this aura of calm around him. Well, usually, anyway. He could be whiny sometimes, but I still found it funny and endearing. I pressed my cheek to his hair and closed my eyes.

Just another typical day off with my impossible Cecil.


End file.
